A Death in the Family
by Russell McDowell
Summary: A birthday should be a joyous occasion...unless Nick Miller's your friend!
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

Nick Miller was a man known more for his anxieties and superstitions than his intelligence and forethought. It was 2:23 am and he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Jess, the love of his life, was fast asleep next to him, exhausted from a long day at work and a short, fevered bout of lovemaking-his specialty.

Nick Miller was a bartender at a seedy dive in an up-and-coming neighborhood who gave away more drinks to his friends-drank himself-than any reasonable employee should. In his mid-30s but looking 40, he lived with his gorgeous lady Jess and two buddies-the exuberant Coach and the sad-sack Winston. Down the hall lived his best friend, the high-energy and well-groomed Schmidt.

Nick Miller's life was on an upswing-he had the aforementioned girlfriend, he was working a full 22 hours a week, his car's heater was working again-yeah, life was good. Which terrified him. When life was good, his anxieties tended to go into overdrive and his superstitions became manifest. For instance, when he was 13 years old and in a single day experienced two firsts-getting an A on a history pop quiz and touching a girl's breast-his parents told him his beloved aunt passed away unexpectedly.

Yeah, life was good.

Nick Miller rolled onto his side and stared at his large pile of dirty laundry and thought about what that day held. A joyous day lay ahead as it was Winston's 34th birthday and that inevitably meant things would go wrong in some zany way, probably in embarrassing fashion for the birthday boy. [He made a mental note that he still had to get him a gift.] But maybe this year would be different? He felt that, despite the earlier bad omen, things might finally go right because life WAS good. Inspired, he rolled over toward Jess.

"Hey Jess. Are you still awake?" Nick whispered.

"Whaaaa…Nick? What time is it?" Jess muttered without opening her eyes.

"In the interests of full disclosure in this relationship I wanted to tell you…" Nick took a deep breath. "I…uhm…love you."

"Hhhh…ooohhh. I love you, too." She snuggled closer.

Nick Miller figured he had 23 hours to discuss the mishap with Jess before it qualified as a bad omen. She was so cute and sleepy he decided he'd tell her about the condom breaking during their fevered lovemaking later. After all, it was Winston's birthday and he didn't want anything to spoil it.

**Act I**

"Winston, I made you breakfast for your birthday-WAKE UP!" Jess huskily called from the kitchen. She piled the pans in the sink and carried a plate loaded with eggs, bacon, an English muffin and some sliced cantaloupe to the kitchen table. Walking to Winston's bedroom door, she pounded on it with her diminutive fist.

"Winston, the cornerstone of any successful day begins with breakfast."

She poured him a glass of orange juice and sat down at the table to nurse her coffee.

Finally, the door opened to reveal Winston's sleep-drenched face.

"Jess, do you know what time is?" he asked painfully as he sat down.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" she called joyfully. "I'm sorry, but I have a department meeting at 7:00 so I had to get up early to make you a birthday breakfast. But I made your favorite-bacon!"

"Thanks, Jess. I don't remember the last time someone made me breakfast for my birth-"

"Whoop, sorry, big man, I have to skedaddle," Jess said, looking at her watch as she got up. "I'll see you at 5:00 for cocktail hour before the big night begins! Byyyyye!"

With the front door clicking shut, Winston sat alone in the dining room as his birthday breakfast grew cold. It was 6:58 am.

At 8:14 Coach came into the living room to find Winston still sitting at the kitchen table with an empty plate in front of him, his birthday breakfast now being digested.

"Whaaaaat up, baby birthday boy?" They awkwardly slapped a high five. "You feeling old yet? 'Cuz you are!"

"Haha, thanks, man. Always nice to hear from one's elders on such a joyous occasion," Winston fired back. He frowned, though, realizing he looked at least five years older than Coach who was nearly 36.

"Yeah? At least I don't look a day over 30, though!" laughed Coach in his douche-bag giggle.

Of _course_ he zeroed in on this particular insecurity like a tracksuit-clad mind reader. Winston stared daggers at Coach's back while he helped himself to coffee and couldn't help but again loathe the fact they were roommates.

"So what's the plan today, muchacho?" Coach drawled as he joined him at the table. "You only turn 35 once!"

"34…and I'm not really sure. Beyond drinks tonight I think Nick's got something planned. I don't-"

"Don't think for a second Nicholas has anything planned, dear Winston!" chirped Schmidt from their leather sofa. "If he can think beyond his morning constitutional it would be a miracle."

"Schmidt, how did you get-?" a perplexed Winston began.

"Speak of the Devil…" called a grinning Nick, emerging from the bathroom holding a Chinese food menu. "And Nick Miller appears!"

Nick sauntered into the kitchen and poured himself the remaining coffee. "So how's the birthday boy? Did my girlfriend make you a perfect breakfast or what? And technically that was my idea so that counts as part of my gift, she'll have to get you something else…"

"Oh, it was great-minus the pre-dawn delivery. Jess sure is something."

"That she is, Winston…but you need to find your own lady as that sweet piece of sunlight is property of Miller Inc.!" Nick crowed proudly.

Coach frowned. "Property-really, Nick? Slavery jokes on Winston's birthday? And you do realize I'm black, too, right?"

"Hahaha, oh you guys." Nick sipped his coffee.

"So, ladies, I'm afraid I have some unfortunate news-I won't be joining you immediately for cocktail hour as my boss decided a 6 pm conference call with Japan was a good idea. Seriously, why do I have to be punished because of the time diff-"

Schmidt's lament was broken by the "meow" of Winston's phone getting a text-a custom ringtone featuring the voice of his beloved Ferguson no less!

"Finally, let the birthday well wishes BEGIN!" grinned Winston as he unlocked his iPhone. "Wait. No…NO! NOT TODAY!"

"That's so rude, Winston, I was just complaining about the Japanese."

"Could you have a more lame ringtone, dude? Amirite!?" Coach cracked himself up and Nick smirked.

Winston frowned for the second time on his birthday. Schmidt was a self-absorbed a-hole and grated on his nerves more than any human alive but he was still a more considerate roommate-nay, human being-than Coach OR Nick.

"I'm sorry my birthday is an inconvenience. Maybe if you'd spend more time at YOUR apartment it would bother you less."

"Oh dayaaaamn! Birthday boy comes out swinging!" Coach warbled.

"Seriously, what's wrong, Winston? Everything okay?" Nick asked around a smile. He was too easily amused by Coach.

"No, it's not okay-it's far from okay. My parents are coming. TODAY. As a surprise birthday gift."

A heavy, sobering silence fell upon the room. Winston's parents were coming-Nick choked down the rest of his coffee. A second bad omen had emerged. And when two bad omens were presented in one day-it meant someone was going to die.

**Act II**

Winston spoke first. "Well, on that note, I'm out-I have a lot of ground to cover."

"Where are you off to, my Nubian brother?" asked Schmidt with a roguish smile.

"A birthday is the year's only day where one can legitimately ask for something for free. I've got several frozen yogurt places and coffee shops to hit before swinging by a few bars before cocktail hour begins."

"That sounds like a journey of self-validation I wish I could join you for…but alas, unlike the rest of you gentiles, I have a job." Schmidt noted as he sprang from the couch. "I'll walk you out, Winston. Later, bitches."

The door shut. Coach and Nick stared for a moment and then turned to the other and said simultaneously "What are you getting Winston?"

"You, too? Phew, glad it's not just me," said Nick, visibly relieved.

"Don't lump me in with _you_, Miller, I just was waiting until he left to go shopping," Coach began. "But, well…I'm not sure what to get him. You guys have lived together a few years-what does he like?"

"Oh, Winston?" Nick chuckled. "He likes…well…like, stuff. I know he's into cats. Maybe get him another cat?"

Coach glared at Nick in outrage. "Seriously? A cat? That's all you've got? Isn't Winston one of your best friends? That's weak, even by Miller standards. What were you thinking about getting him?"

Nick starred silently into his now empty coffee cup. A minute passed. Two.

"You're going to stare into that cup until I leave, aren't you?" Coach grumbled. He rose from the table and put his coffee cup in the sink. "Whatever you're thinking about getting I'm going to do you one better."

Nick tried harder to break the coffee cup with his mind.

"In fact, I'm not even going to get him a gift, I'm going to get him an EXPERIENCE. A feeling that he'll never forget and he'll always remember his 35th birthday and think 'damn, that Coach gets me better than my best friend Nick.'"

Nick's face immediately brightened as a dim light bulb clicked on. "You're a genius, Coach, I know what we can get him-get your outside tracksuit on!"

The pair stood at the front door of their building in the cool morning air. Nick was karate chopping the air in excitement.

"This is such a great idea, Coach, it's like the hand of fate reached down and blessed me. Could I be some type of prophet?" Nick punctuated the last word with a perfect monkey fist strike to the morning air.

Coach's nostrils flared in rage. "I can't believe you, man. You're a piece of work, Miller. But I am the bigger man, literally and figuratively, and for the sake of maintaining your sweet martial arts moves what did you have in mind?"

"We're going to make Winston something he's never been-a hero!" Nick gushed maniacally.

"Hmmm…interesting, definitely has potential. Tell me more."

Nick began doing jumping jacks. "I'm thinking we stage a break-in as Winston's returning from his birthday swag hunt and the perpetrator is still in the apartment, right? And maybe you're lying on the floor, like you've been struck down-"  
Coach cut him off. "Wait, why do I have to be the victim?"

"Because it's MY idea. Now listen." Nick was positively glowing now. "Winston walks in, immediately notices the curtains are closed…in the shadows, he notices our perpetrator looming over your prone body, as though you've just been struck down in a heroic attempt to thwart his evil deed. Should he be wearing a ski mask? Hmmm, so many details to consider."

"So if I'm unconscious on the floor…what are you doing?" Coach asked, warming to the idea.

Nick started to run in place and began to sweat immediately. "I'm going to be hiding in the bedroom and watching on a closed circuit camera. Oh my GOD this is such an amazing idea. Winston will stop the man from molesting your unconscious body-"

"Whoa, say whaaaat?"

"-and grabbing the nearest weapon will drive the rapist from the apartment and save your virginity. And I'll be filming all of it so he can always remember the greatest single moment of his life!"

"You know, Nick, this might just be the only good idea you've ever come up with. Beyond its disturbing sexual nature, I think it might just be the greatest birthday gift one man could give another."

Nick beamed at the compliment. "Thanks, man, I appreciate that. Now, I need a shower and a nap and then we'll need to figure out a suitable perpetrator."

"Can you guys spare any change? Or maybe a sandwich?" asked Outside Dave, shambling toward the pair.

Nick and Coach grinned.

**Act III**

Winston loved frozen yogurt but he loved FREE frozen yogurt even more. Walking back toward the apartment, as he finished off his third free cone, he thought about the events of the previous year with a mixture of joy and regret. There had definitely been some difficult times but they seemed balanced with the great times. As much as they annoyed him-Coach most of all-he had great friends who genuinely cared about him…and that's something to be truly thankful for.

He decided to ascend the staircase rather than taking the elevator. He needed to start appreciating the little things in life while able, he reflected-for instance, someday he might not be able to walk up stairs.

Two sweaty flights later, he decided elevators weren't so bad. He paused for a moment to catch his breath (and let his yogurt-laden stomach settle). His rear pocket meow'ed. His phone elicited an immediate frown when he read this text:

ON WAY FROM AIRPORT NW…CYU SOON! xMom

"Damn, this just isn't how I wanted to spend my birthday," he sighed.

Walking to his apartment door, he immediately noticed the door was ajar. Not unusual for the evening as Nick had a phobia of latching the door after midnight, but midday was something different…maybe the landlord had finally come by to fix the oven fan?

Winston entered the darkened apartment and realized immediately something was wrong. It wasn't just that the curtains were drawn following the door being ajar-there was a tension in the air. Not the fun maybe-there's-a-room-full-of-people-hiding-with-a-birthday-cake kind of tension…no, this was something else. There was danger in the air.

Winston tried the light switch. Nothing. He caught a shape rise from the couch…a BIG shape, accompanied by labored breathing. Someone…something…that didn't belong in Winston's home was approaching him slowly.

Winston walked sideways toward the kitchen, keeping distance between himself and the intruder.

"Hey, man, I don't know who you are, but my roommates Nick and Coach are right behind me…I'd suggest you best be walking out that door." He found a dirty frying pan with his right hand…his left gesturing toward the open door.

"Coach," the intruder grunted. That's when Winston noticed Coach's prone body laying on the floor behind the couch.

"Listen, just take whatever you want, man-we don't have much. Nick keeps cash under his mattress! Just take it and go!"

The monstrous intruder stopped approaching and seemed to consider this, still breathing heavily and weaving ever so slightly. The tension in the room was unbearable.

Slowly, Winston reached into his back pocket and produced his phone, holding it toward the looming behemoth. "Here, man, take this, too. It's a brand new iPhone and I'm sure you can get a lot for it."

What happened next, neither Coach-lying on the floor trying not to laugh-or Nick-in his bedroom fancying himself Kubrick-esque in his camera placement-could really comprehend until long after. It was triggered by the lovable "meow" ringtone as Winston's mother decided that moment to text him: YR FATHER WANTS BURRITOS.

Outside Dave was upon Winston in the blink of an eye, giving the hapless man no time to react much less defend himself with the frying pan. Meaty hands encircled Winston's throat and the weight of the attack drove him into the wall and to the floor.

Climbing upon Winston's body, Outside Dave tightened his vise-like grip and leaned heavily on the birthday boy's chest and screamed incoherently into his face. Winston attempted a feeble defense but there was no escape.

His vision began to blur and something wet dripped onto his cheek-his attacker was weeping. There was no comfort in Winston's realization it was Outside Dave driving the life from his slender body. To add insult to injury, he vomited frozen yogurt-except it never cleared his cinched throat.

With a final squeeze on Winston's now lifeless body, Outside Dave pushed himself to his unsteady feet and howling like a wounded creature fled out the open door.

When Nick later took the stand at Coach's manslaughter trial he would admit the events happened so quickly they had no time to react or save their friend. When they reached Winston's prone body his birthday frozen yogurt finally reached the surface, spilling to one side of his terrified, frozen face.

"Meow." WERE PARKING. BE UP IN A SEC! xo

"Holy sh*t." Nick finally broke the silence.

Winston Bishop's 34th birthday ended at 11:48 am.

**To Be Continued!**


	2. Chapter 2 (Act IV)

**Act IV**

"What did you do, Coach?" Nick finally croaked. "He's, like, seriously dead."

"What did I do? **What did I do**?!" howled Coach in a high-pitched whine. "This was **your** idea, as I recall you mentioning that fact several times!"

"Oh no-my idea was to give Winston a birthday gift he'd never forget…not give me nightmares of Winston's birthday I'll never forget! What are we going to do?! My skin is too soft for prison!" Nick was shivering.

Meow. NO WHR TO PARK…WHY DONT U COME DWN WELL GO OUT

Nick Miller stared at the lifeless husk on the floor. Then he glanced at the cell phone. Inspiration struck Nick like a bolt of lightning from the heavens. Quickly walking to the front door, he shut it. "Coach, grab Winston's phone and help me move the body toward the window."

"Whoa, man, this is a **crime** scene now. I'm not touching anything…have some respect for the dead!"

"Listen to me, Coach-Winston's parents are downstairs. We have to get rid of them. If they're downstairs he must have texted them he was here…we have to get them to leave to then deal with this…situation."

"Situation, Nick? **Situation**?! This is **murder**, man! I don't know how-" The loud smack echoed throughout the apartment as Nick shook his hand in pain.

"Damn, Coach, you've got a solid jaw. Listen, I know how this looks and I know we're in deep with this one. But if you listen to me and follow my lead-I'm pretty sure I can get us out of this. Now, get his phone and help me drag him toward the window."

"What the hell are we going to do? We're friends, Nick, but not 'move dead bodies' kinda friends."

The pair each grabbed one of Winston's arms and dragged him toward the window. Rigor mortis had begun to set in and Winston proved heavier than he looked.

"Phew, geez…wish he'd been eating a few more salads." The body was now lying on the floor beneath the window. "Okay, dial the number and get ready to do your best 'Winston' voice."

"Nick, what are you talking about? This is not happening…this can't be happening, no way…and why do I have to be Winston? Because I'm black?!"

"No, you're going to have to talk…because I've going to be doing the heavy lifting-literally."

Nick opened the window wide and began to struggle to lift Winston's body.

"Holy sh*t, Nick, you're going to throw him out the window?!" Coach exclaimed, already dialing the number.

"Trust me, Coach, I got this. Haven't you ever seen _Weekend at Bernie's_?" Nick managed to lift the corpse to the window.

"Honey, calm down…I'm sure Winston's just getting ready to come down." Charmaine calmed her husband with a hand to the arm.

"Is it too much to ask that he could be ready for our surprise visit? I'm telling you, Charmaine, you were soft on the boy growing up…had I been there, we'd already be enjoying refried beans, chips and salsa." Gus grumped from behind the wheel. He and Charmaine had only been married six months after a whirlwind romance following a drunken hook-up during a local Mardi Gras party. He'd only met Winston twice and as far as he was concerned it was "two strikes." Lord knows he didn't want to see the boy strike out-but he'd call it if he had to.

Bzzzzz. "See, there's my boy now. Get ready!"

"Happpy birthday tooooo youuuuu…happyyy birthdaaaay to youuuu…happy birthday sweet sonnnnnn!" The couple harmonized in tone-deaf bliss.

"Happy Birthday, baby boy!" Charmaine cooed. "What's wrong with your voice? Are you feeling sick? Wait-what?" She leaned forward to peer out the front windshield.

"What the hell are you doing, woman?" Gus muttered, leaning forward, too.

"Wave to the birthday boy!" Charmaine called as she waved wildly with her free hand.

Gus waved…but found himself frowning. What was that boy doing? He wasn't waving so much as he was rocking back and forth outside the open, top floor window. It looked incredibly dangerous and was he even talking on the phone?

"Give me that phone." Gus reached over.

"Here's your step-dad, honey! I love you!" Charmaine called into the phone.

Gus stared out the window at the apparition above them and spoke into the phone.

"Listen, Winston, quit playing games up there and get down here. We're hungry for your birthday lunch and-" He gasped…Winston's body took a strange lurch OUT the window and then suddenly slid back inside in a very serpentine manner. "Holy hell, be careful, son! Are you high? Charmaine, your son is high as a kite-did you see that little trick out the window? I told you he was on drugs." He pushed the phone back toward her in disgust. "Let's go get lunch and check into our hotel."

Charmaine took the phone back from her irate husband. "Honey, we're going to get lunch and we'll check into our hotel. Maybe we can meet in a few hours after you've, uh, freshened up a bit? We'll come back by at 2:00 okay? I love you, birthday boy!"

Gus gunned the engine and pulled onto the street as Charmaine hung up the phone.

"I wish your boy could be more like those roommates of his. All of them responsible and hard working. Who's high by noon? Damn hippies."

Charmaine frowned. Something wasn't right and her son definitely wasn't high…and she was sure his voice sounded off.

"Can you google a Mexican place around here? It's Los Angeles, I'm sure there's a million of them."

**Act V**

Nick and Coach watched the car drive up the block and turn down a corner.

"Jeeessus! You almost dropped him out the window!" Coach whined.

"Look, man, he's surprisingly dense for a guy his size…" Nick grunted as he dragged the corpse across the room. With a huff, he lifted Winston and laid him upon the couch. "He's so peaceful looking. Well, except for the bruises on his neck. And that disgusting yogurt on his face. I mean, seriously, who eats pineapple yogurt?"

"Yeah, that's nasty," grumbled Coach, sitting down at the other end of the couch. "What are we going to do, Nick? Seriously, we're in deep this time. I don't see how this can end well."

"I'm formulating a plan, Coach, don't worry." He put a blanket over the corpse…tucking it in. "Look, it looks like Winston's taking a nap!"

Joyless laughter echoed in the apartment. Nick sat down heavily next to his deceased friend.

"I only see three options here, man. One: we confess to the police and take the fall. Two: we make it look like a suicide. Winston hung himself on his 35th birthday-apparently that's a popular age for suicide."

"Gawd, those are both terrible, Nick. Suicide? What's the third?" Coach whimpered around the hands that were now holding his face.  
Nick sat up with a look of steely resolve on his face. "Third: we hunt down Outside Dave and…deal with him…making _that_ look like the suicide of a deranged man overwhelmed with remorse."

Coach perked up immediately. "That's _genius_. He broke in to rob us, killed our beloved roommate Winston, and then fled…later taking his own life in overwhelming guilt. By jove, Miller, I think you've got it. We're going on a manhunt!" Coach clapped his hands together happily.

"We're going on manhunt." Nick echoed in a hollow whisper as he starred wistfully at his beautiful, deceased friend.


	3. Chapter 3

**Act VI**

An aching pain in his hands woke Outside Dave from his stupor, leaning against a dumpster in an alleyway. His joints ached from overuse, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember how it happened. He winced as he flexed his rugged fingers-the doctor at the facility had prescribed some anti-inflammatory for when this would happen. This wasn't the first time he wished he could get a hold of that medicine again.

Weirdly, his eyes burned as well, like he'd been weeping-but he couldn't remember the last time he'd cried. Life had dealt him such a bad hand of cards the last few years nothing seemed worth crying over anymore. In fact, the only time he could remember weeping was when his wife left him, taking their baby daughter. She even had the nerve to zing him literally on the way out the door with "I wish you'd had a few more tears for us."

Bracing himself against the dumpster, he slowly rose to his feet. The afternoon sun stung his sore eyes and he pondered where his morning had vanished to. He remembered going to sleep the previous evening in his usual spot and then…nothing.

Staggering his way to the sidewalk, he headed down Third Ave toward his home. Maybe he'd find some hint of what had happened…or better yet, maybe he could still catch that sweet girl in the top floor apartment on her way to work. She always had a little breakfast surprise for him.

"C'mon, Coach, we have to hurry. Who knows **where** he could be already," Nick called out, banging on the door with his fist again.

The door creaked open and Coach stepped out. He had the grim look of a man who was prepared to face death and deal it. The claw hammer in his right hand solidified this horrific visage.

"There's my little Grim Reaper!" Nick crowed, patting his roommate on the back. "Now, let's go kill a man!" Nick slapped the head of the wrench he was carrying in his palm for emphasis.

"So, I'm thinking we cruise down to Davis Street and see if Dave's down there, dumpster-diving the Burger King," said Nick as the pair approached the building's front door. "He likes to get the leftover Croissan'wiches. And if he's not there-"

Coach and Nick opened the door and froze…to their amazement Outside Dave was sitting on the curb next to Nick's car in front of their building. He turned to look at them.

"Can you guys spare any change?" he asked pathetically.

Coach ran at Outside Dave with a crazed look on his face and a high pitched wail, hammer raised high above his head. Outside Dave, with a speed disproportionate to his size, rolled away from Coach's first strike, which knocked the passenger mirror off Nick's car.

"Hey man, watch out for my car!" Nick wailed as Coach chased Outside Dave around the side of the building, into the alley.

Nick stooped down to pick up the mirror and in doing so glanced up and down the street. Not a single person was visible and neither, remarkably, were any cars coming or going.

Setting the mirror upon the hood of his car, he trotted to the entrance of the alley. To his horror, he had a sickening sense of déjà vu as Outside Dave had Coach in a chokehold-identical to the grip that Winston met his fate in.

Coach's eyes were beginning to bug out of his face and he weakly dropped the hammer he was desperately trying to connect to Outside Dave with in some damaging fashion. His life was slipping away.

Nick once more glanced around before entering the alley. Coach was starting to shake.

Nick pulled the sleeve of his shirt down over his hand and picked up Coach's discarded weapon. He slapped the smelly giant on the shoulder.

Outside Dave's tear-streaked, bewildered face turned toward Nick. The bewilderment turned to a sad form of relief after the first hammer blow connected to his skull.

"Yeah, there you go big guy." Nick dropped another blow. Coach fell from the homeless man's grasp and immediately gasped for air. Outside Dave crumpled to the ground, twitching.

"Okay, buddy…you're okay," Nick soothed his fallen friend, while pressing the hammer back into his hand. "Here, hold this-I'm going to make a quick call upstairs."

Coach blankly nodded while rubbing his neck with his free hand.

"Cool, be right back!" Nick jogged deeper into the alley and entered the apartment building through a side entrance near the garage. He ran swiftly up the stairs, sweating heavily by the time he reached the front door.

He let himself into the apartment and quietly closed the door behind him. Winston's corpse was still tucked in a blanket on the couch.

"Winston, I'm sorry…this really isn't what we wanted for your birthday," Nick whispered thickly as he withdrew his phone from his front pocket. "Don't worry, pal, I'll get you back into your nice, comfy resting place on the floor soon. It's more comfortable than that old sofa."

He dialed 911 and took a deep, ragged breath.

"**OH MY GOD, PLEASE HELP!**" He wailed into the phone convincingly. "He is, I mean…was…I…he's dead, Winston's **dead!** No, it was an intruder and Coach just chased him out the door with a hammer! M-my name is Nick Miller and I want to report a break-in…and I think a murder!"

**Epilogue**

12 hours later, Nick Miller reflected on the bizarre day as Jess snoozed quietly next to him in bed. She was understandably upset when she got home but after a Valium and splitting two bottles of wine she had finally calmed down enough to sleep.

Nick knew that the next few months were going to be tough, with Coach's pending manslaughter trial and having to clean out the extra bedrooms in the apartment. It was pure luck that Winston's mother was in town so they didn't have to handle the funeral arrangements.

And Winston did end up getting the best birthday gift of all-a memorable death! Sure, he and Coach had tried for heroic, but in the end, it could have been a lot worse. Suicide? Nick frowned at the mere thought of that.

He did feel remorse for Coach. He was pretty sure, though, that he wouldn't serve more than 24 months and while Nick's testimony (and 911 call) didn't exactly _help_ him he didn't think it was too damning. And as an added bonus, who knew that Outside Dave was wanted for several unsolved murders in the Valley?

On the bright side, the day's grim events made Nick realize exactly what he had to do next.

"Hey Jess," Nick nuzzled his ladylove. She just snored. "I think you might be pregnant…so, will you marry me?"

Coming Soon: COACH FEAR!


End file.
